


The Sales Pitch of the Century

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Babysitter Castiel, Babysitting, Castiel and Kids, Cute, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Meddling Kids, Shy Dean, Single Parents, Tired Castiel, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 07:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12954009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: Cas messages his temples on the living room couch as World War III reaches a new high point—literally, Claire screams on an octave Cas hasn’t even heard from Mariah Carey this time of year.(That’s another thing: He could take them sledding, but he’s pretty sure Gabe’s kid would kill his children given the opportunity with something big and dangerous.)





	The Sales Pitch of the Century

Food. Music. Animals. Puke. It’s a three-ring circus and he’s the ringleader of the chaos.

Don’t get him wrong, Cas loves kids. But three kids and a _dog_? Claire, his four-year-old daughter, doesn’t get along with his brother’s son, eight-year-old Loki, who, to be fair, lives up to his name. Never in Cas’s life has he seen a kid so malevolent. He’s already bit Claire twice and shoved a cupcake in her face when she asked for her maracas back. Claire’s aggressive crying prompted his eight-month old son Clarence to scream over _her,_ and Cas isn’t sure whose puke is on the throw rug in the living room, but going by the whimpering coming from Baldur, Gabe’s German Shepard, he’s going to take a shot in the dark and say it was him.

It’s Cas’s fault, really. He’s the one that offers to look after Loki when Gabe and Kali need a break. It doesn’t help that Gabe sells timeshares, so he can virtually con his credulous baby brother into anything. But did he _have_ to bring the dog along? If he’s still not used to being home alone, doesn’t that mean he’ll be even more nervous at someone else’s house? Plus, Cas has only has so much stain remover.

“ _Dad!”_ Claire shrieks. “Loki jus’ stole somefing from Clarence!”

“Did not!”

“Did too! Why do ya think he’s crying?”

“Cos he’s a baby! Babies cry!”

“Yeah, like you! You _baby!”_

Cas messages his temples on the living room couch as World War III reaches a new high point—literally, Claire screams on an octave Cas hasn’t even heard from Mariah Carey this time of year.

(That’s another thing: He could take them sledding, but he’s pretty sure Gabe’s kid would kill his children given the opportunity with something big and dangerous.)

Just as he leans his head over the rest to further contemplate his life choices, the doorbell rings. He barely hears it when the kids are still screaming—and are now, apparently, resorting to throwing things, judging by the chewy dog toy, still wet with slobber when it hits his left calf muscle. He keeps moving in his pursuit to the door, though sluggishly. “Yes?” he rejoins half-heartedly, not even bothering to look at the stranger.

“Hi! My name’s Emma, I’m trying to raise money to go to the Liberty Memorial for my school trip so I’m going house to house wondering if anyone wants to buy my cookies. They’re homemade and super-duper yummy and only three dollars a batch.”

“I’m sorry,” Cas says, blearily opening his eyes to the girl on his doorstep, who can’t be older than ten, and talking over something shattering in the background, “It’s just not a good time right now.”

“ **COOKIES?!”**

Cas cranes his head after the ruckus comes to a surprising halt to see all three kids, even the dog, perked up in interest. He turns his head back to the girl, who’s now joined by a man with forest green eyes and sparks of fire scattered across his nose, and a broad smile that can be the Smokey’s worst enemy because Cas’s chest is burning up. “We’re sorry to have bothered you,” he says, shifting his denim bowlegs and hugging the back of his caramel hair with his hand. He seems much less confident than the girl next to him. “Have a good day.”

“Wait.”

Both figures turn around. Cas can tell they’re family just by the same open-mouthed expression. Cas swivels his own head back to the kids again, who are still staring at him in equal parts anticipation and uncertainty before he faces Emma and the man again. “I’ll take ten.”

Emma’s face splits into a grin as she starts bouncing up and down. “Oh my God! Thank you, thank you!”

“No, thank _you._ Seriously.”

“Babysitting troubles?” the man asks, voice somehow deeper than before.

Cas scoffs, “You can say that.”

“I can help!”

“Oh, Emma, that’s okay,” Cas starts, but the man cuts him off.

“It’s the least we can do for your generous contribution,” he says, lending out his hand with a much less nervous smile. “Dean. Winchester. This is my daughter, Emma. Baker extraordinaire.”

Cas slips his hand between Dean’s, noting the callouses but his nonetheless firm grip. “Cas.” When he realizes he’s lingered a bit too long shaking his hand, he moves onto Emma, who’s still proudly holding her cookies. “Oh here, let me take those from you.”

“I’m gonna get nine more batches from the trunk,” Dean announces as Emma skips in. Cas definitely doesn’t watch his ass as he goes, because that would just be inappropriate and way too convenient—more so than how snugly those jeans display it.

When Cas turns around again, he sees Emma settling next to Claire, commencing a game of patty cake. Loki, who would normally be plotting how to make both them cry, is just looking on in awe of Emma. Baldur’s even taken to her, smothering her face in slimy dog kisses. Emma lets out a giggle, prompting the same reaction from Clarence.  

Cas’s lips curve up into a smile. He’s not sure how long he’s just standing there, drinking in the sight, because Dean’s already returned with the cookies. “Where do you want these?”

“Oh, um, the island is fine,” he responds before shaking his head. “Your daughter is a godsend—both of you.”

Dean’s hand returns to the back of his neck. “Thank you,” he says, turning to the kids probably mostly to avoid Cas seeing the blush on his face, “but I’m sure Emma thinks the same of you. She’s had a really hard time with the door-to-door gig. That was a really cool thing of you to do.”

“Anything for the kids—literally, they were driving me crazy.”

Dean laughs, “Yeah, I only have the one, but her best friend Liz, my best friend’s daughter, when they get together… you’d think Justin Bieber is throwing them a private concert in their room.”

Cas nods, mulling it over. “They’re impressionable at that age, you know? Happy just to be happy. I think we should take a lesson in life from them sometimes.”

Dean turns to Cas with a small smile. “I think you’re right, Cas.”

 

 

Later that afternoon, after Gabe comes to pick up Loki and Baldur, leaving a knowing Emma to watch over Cas’s kids as they devour her cookies, Dean takes Cas’s advice and leads them to the front porch to ask him on a date.

**Author's Note:**

> This originally began as a Cockles fan fic idea in my head, with JJ as Emma because she's sweet like that, but now I realize, it's more like Jen/Mish than I thought with Cas buying all those cookies. Back at the first Phoenix convention (major R.I.P.), Misha invested in just as much if not more Girl Scout cookies at his meet and greet and then at his panel, which I was lucky enough to witness, he started passing them out to people asking questions because he had no idea what to do with all of them after that.


End file.
